


To a Strange New Land

by GillO



Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Jossverse
Genre: F/M, Post-Series, semi comics compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-20
Updated: 2015-04-20
Packaged: 2018-03-25 00:18:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3789586
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GillO/pseuds/GillO
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After recovering from the fight in the alley in NFA, Spike learns how to use the internet, research and finally work out how to get what he needs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To a Strange New Land

Spike has to admit it – he owes the little fairy, big time. Not that he is ever going to admit it, because God only knows what he’d do in the way of slobbering once more over his Gandalf the White.

No, even a “Ta muchly” may be going a touch too far. He’s prepared to smile as long as it can be interpreted as sarcastic, and nod his head slightly, possibly tilt it too. That’s as far as he’s going.

But really, if it hadn’t been for that trip to Rome and the little nerd’s hilarious attempt to send off straight vibes with the leggy bints, he would never have smelt a rat, never tried a different method of tracking her down. 

A month had been a long time to lounge around, “convalescing” after the Partners had gone down, but at least Blue had drawn on her “shell’s” memories ( _and were these getting more frequent these days?_ ) to get him a laptop that worked and access to the internet. He’d been pissed off with it to start with – the graphics weren’t up to the donkey thing he’d played with when his hands had been glued back on, and the games he found just weren’t up to scratch. And who in hell wanted to watch cartoon hamsters anyway?

Then he discovered the porn, which made even his eyes widen and helped him to while away a few (hundred) hours. Long Dong who?

Then he discovered Hotmail, and the joys of making up new identities, some of which were offered some extraordinary medication. And then the chance of hunting down likely addresses and looking up directories and forums.

Bulletin boards were full of self-righteous gits who seemed determined to argue the pros and cons of on-screen romances to the end of time. They just didn’t get that some shows were over. And some romances were sacred anyway, but torture itself wouldn’t get out of him which ones he supported. He quite liked some of these new cable channels, and British TV had always been a bit more generous with the flesh, thank the Powers That Bugger You Around.

And that was how he found Sunnydaleheartthrob101, Sunnydalegeek and Weareasgods23. Didn’t take him too long to work out they were all the same idiot, arguing about Han Solo with himself. Who sodding cared who shot first, though he bloody well knows who would have done the killing if he’d been there. But the names gave a hell of a lot away, and it was easy enough for one of his own names to get friendly with the twerp behind them and find out the Sunnydale link. Slowly, with exaggerated care, he drew the nerd out, found out where he was now, what he was doing. Oh yes, the answers were deliberately obscure, but only a total emptyhead could fail to work out what he was really writing about.

Once he’d got a pile of details, he struck. Addressed the nitwit by name, which shook him rigid, threatened all sorts of enjoyable and painful things if he told, then got the final links he needed.

So now he’s standing here on a wet Scottish evening, dark, dank and smelling faintly of fried food. Scotland, after all, though he drew the line at sodding Mars bars in batter. Onions, now and always, were his thing. Just as well it wasn’t really a castle, just an impressive Baronial not far from Glasgow. He has a ridiculous, gigantic bunch of flowers in his arms and has just managed to ring the bell despite fumbling the bloody things. He sees a curtain twitch, hears a squeal that can only be his Bit, watches the door open. Dawn grins, then is yanked sharply sideways. Slayer strength is what it takes to do that.

And it _is_ her, the real thing. She looks tired, her clothes are grubby, there’s a little crease between her eyes. Then the smile opens up, the eyes widen, she steps forward, hand reaching out. There’s bound to be fighting and rude words and snark later, but just this moment he’s basking in the glory.

She is there and he is home.


End file.
